


Who Is Your Daddy

by Siarh



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies), Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Heartache, Heartbreaking, Longing, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-10 06:00:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 10,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siarh/pseuds/Siarh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maggie confuses a member of the Atlanta Survivors for someone else. Takes place around "Cherokee Rose" Episode in Season 2. A series of drabbles set after my story "Moonshine." If you have not seen that story, please read it first. Also is not related to "Days of Our Friggin' Camp". Rated T for Dixon/MacManus Mouth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heart

Daryl grabbed his duffle out of the back of Carol's Jeep, and carried it over to where he was gonna set up his tent. He looked around and squinted at the layout of the land. It would do as a base camp while he continued to look for Sophia. As soon as he had his shit sorted out and set up, he would head out and try to find the creek from here. He figured he could find it easy enough, but he wanted to do it today, instead of wasting part of tomorrow in case he hit any troubles along the way.

He heard a door slam and looked up at the house, seeing a dark haired woman headed for him. A pregnant dark haired woman. She grinned at him widely, tears shining in her eyes. "Hey," she said softly, reaching for him. Dropping the bag, Daryl moved out of her way, brushing her arms away.

"It's ok," she said. "I'm not mad." She rubbed her hand over her belly, still smiling. "You didn't know. I mean, how could you know?"

He squinted at her hard, his lips drawn up in a horrendous grimace. "What ta fuck are ya going on about, woman?"

The woman stepped back, shock on her face. "You're not Murphy," she said softly, as if she was telling him some sort of secret.

Daryl yanked open the duffle at his feet. "Not last time I checked." He looked up at her as she turned from him and scurried towards the house, but not before he saw the tears on her cheeks.

"Already making friends?" Glenn asked, walking by with his own shit in his hands.

"Fuck ya too."


	2. Brothers

"Maggie."

Connor nudged Murphy with his foot, just enough to to make him stop muttering in his sleep. They didn't need to attract any of the freaks in their direction. They had barely gotten past the last horde that swarmed them in Billings. They had chanced a big city in hopes of finding supplies and gas. And now they were holed up in a cabin outside of Red Lodge, hoping the elevation and shift in temperature would slow them down.

With a sigh that did nothing but fog up the window he was looking through, Connor glanced over at his brother curled in a ball around him, a blanket thrown over them both. Conn knew his brother better then Murphy knew himself and had watched the eldest farmer's daughter turn into a fixation in Murphy's mind.

Maggie was a good looking girl, and by the tired, dopey look Murphy had on his face the next morning when he climbed in he car, she was as good as she looked. Connor wasn't sure what about her was so damn special as to warrant a semi-permanent spot in Murphy's mind. He didn't talk about her much, but he didn't talk about her much, but Connor just knew, the way he knew about so many other things that were cemented on Murph's brain, that Murphy was hooked.


	3. Sisters

Beth stood at the front window of the house and watched the people across the yard setting up tents and settling in. She glanced at her sister as Maggie stalked into the house, dashing for the stairs. Beth bit her bottom lip, her eyes flashing back at the man in the sleeveless flannel, abruptly tossing stuff into his tent with jerks of his arms. She saw what Maggie saw, that this man had a clear resemblance to Murphy but something wasn't quite right.

The way the grumpy man brushed Maggie off made Beth furious. If he only knew the tears her sister had already shed over this whole mess, he would have treated her differently. She had a good mind to go out there and tell him to not be a such a jerk.

She moved toward the door, her hand reaching for the handle. She didn't know how long she stood there staring at her hand wrapped around the knob. She had just worked up the courage to go out and talk to the Other Murphy and tensed her hand to turn the knob when she heard the clearing of a throat. Startled, she looked up at the sharp blue eyes of Mr. Grimes on the other side of the screen. She quickly opened the door and stepped back, allowing him to enter. He smiled at her, a soft sad smile as he made his way to the room where Carl was.

Beth dropped her hand from the door and went to the stairs, going to check on her sister.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thank you to marksmanfem for her encouragement, support, editing and helpful ways! Without her this story would have been just one quick drabble, instead of what it is spinning into. If you have not checked out her writing, please do so! It is awesome! I am partial to her "Inhale, Exhale" story.


	4. Darkness

 

She leaned into his personal space and brushed some of his dark hair back from his forehead. He swatted at her hand, annoyed and uncomfortable.

She glanced across the darkened interior of the room the four of them were holed up in. She could make out the outline of Caroline giving Connor what sounded like a spectacular blow job, and Jessica felt a twinge of jealousy. How'd she wind up with the celibate brother?

"Murph," she purred in his ear.

He sighed and shrugged her hand off of his shoulder. "No offense, girl."

"You got a girl?"

Murphy bit his bottom lip before staring off through the window at the far side of the room. He brought his fingers up to his mouth, wishing for a cigarette for the umpteenth . He shrugged at her question.

"Who is she?" Again Jessica's question was met with silence. "Or was she?" she tried again. Murphy shot her an angry look.

She obviously hit a nerve and tried to keep the bitterness from her voice. "If she's so special and shes still alive, why isn't she here? Or why aren't you there?"

Murphy gritted his teeth, his jaw clenching as he turned away completely. Just before his face became obscured by shadow, she was startled by the barrage of emotions that passed over his features: frustration, anger, loneliness, resignation, and just a bit of longing.

Jessica sighed and pulled away from him. That was just too much baggage to deal with for a potential fuck. Standing, she wandered towards the back corner of the room to see if she could lend Caroline a hand.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thank you again to marksmanfem who takes the time to help me take my ideas for these chapters and make them perfect!


	5. Crushing

He anxiously twisted his hands, hovering near in the doorway of the room where Carl lay. He smiled softly, sadly as Maggie headed out to gather supplies for her dad and Patricia to work on the boy. The eldest Greene daughter squeezed his arm on her way by him.

Otis had watched Maggie grow up all the way from a spindly tiny stick of a girl to the rebellious teenager who only wanted to smoke and steal into the incredibly strong woman who had the guts to stand up to her dad, a man that many others deferred to instead of defied.

Since he and Patricia could never have any of their own children, Otis thought of the girl as his own over the years. It killed him to see her go through this. Her pregnancy had put a serious strain on her relationship with her devout father. Herschel didn't love her any less; it's really that he was deeply disappointed in her and couldn't find it in himself to get past that disappointment.

And for Maggie that disappointment was almost worse than her father disowning, yelling or punishing her. It was crushing her, smashing her soul to have no control over something that so disheartened her daddy. She was not exactly thrilled to be knocked up in the middle of the end of the world but she was doing her best, and Otis could only hope Herschel would pull his head out of his ass before it was too late.


	6. Risk

He sighed at his twin's words. He knew Murphy was right. They would be a hell of a lot safer with more people, especially with people they could trust watching their backs. This world didn't work well for just two people; the two of them were never fully rested, they were always half a step ahead of disaster, and, after over a year of it, they were utterly exhausted. They had been looking for the best place to set up shop, but to date they had only met a handful of people who were worth anything.

And most of those folks were at the Greene Farm back in Georgia.

Connor ran a weary hand over his tired face. It would be nice to let their guard down for a while. But, fuck, it took them so long to get this far north. He was pretty sure going back to Georgia would be a harder journey than getting to Montana had been,especially if they wanted to reach the farm before winter hit. And there was nothing guaranteeing they would find the Greenes still alive and well. Seemed risky.

Way risky.


	7. Tears

He couldn't help but notice Maggie. She was beautiful and pregnancy looked good on her. Glenn had been developing a friendship with the young woman despite her father's overbearing persona, hovering and intimidating around his daughters. Maggie insisted he was always that way. However her pregnancy a direct result of sleeping with a man passing through the area, someone she would never see again, had her dad more paranoid and protective than ever. Not that she could get more pregnant, she had joked.

Glenn liked Maggie. She was a very sweet woman who didn't let her current situation dull her outlook at all. He wasn't sure how she managed to keep a smile on her face considering the world had gone to shit and she was in a precarious position.

Maggie never spoke of the father of her baby, but Glenn had heard Beth refer to him as Murph. She had mentioned him and his brother in passing. The blond had blushed and stammered about how much Murphy looked like Daryl, only cleaner, and not so back-woodsy.

Glenn admired Maggie for her attitude. She had confided him she had her down moments and he had seen her shed more than a few tears on those rough days. He gladly took the tears on his shoulder, hoping he would be treated to one of her smiles eventually.


	8. Take-Out

The hum of a car's engine pierced the air. The walker turned its head from side to side for a better listen. Straightening, it stood and lurched toward the road. As it reached the black path that cut through the trees, the noise had already ceased but was replaced by lower, harsher rhythms. Voices, two different but similar voices rose and fell in agitated tones.

Following the voices, the walker turned to find a metal box on the side of the road. A car. Slowly ambling towards it with the assumption that the car would produce some sort of food, the walker saw a dark figure standing at the edge of the woods. A person.

There was another person in the car, answering the man by the woods in an equally harsh and agitated voice. The voices abruptly ceased, and the dark figure outside the car raised his hand back towards the other person, a single digit raised above the others.

After making adjustments to his clothing, the person moved back toward the car. When his eyes landed on the walker, he jerked to a stop, barking something toward the other person in the car.

Sensing a shift in the smells around them, the walker sniffed the air. The person smelled like something worth sinking its teeth into, despite their ever deteriorating nature. The walker moved toward him faster than ever, ignoring the sudden sound of gunfire. The fact that a bullet had just passed through its lower arm, shattering its bones, sending half of its ulna and radius to the ground with its wrist and hand still attached, also didn't seem to faze the former breather one bit.

The person standing raised his arm toward it.

And then there was nothing.

Silence. Emptiness.

Peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was far and away the most difficult chapter I have written for this series, if not all of my TWD and BDS writing to date. When marksmanfem suggested it, I thought it would be a breeze. Turns out describing things from an undead perspective is a tad bit difficult. 
> 
> Thank you to Val for hand holding, serious editing and threatening of "Mummy will Smack!" and "I forbid you to use that word"! It is all greatly appreciated and hopefully the next chapter wont be so bad.


	9. Shock

Pulling herself from the confines of Maggie's embrace, Patricia wiped at her face. She did not know how long she and the younger woman had sat huddled together in the loveseat in the Greenes' front room. By the darkness that now shrouded the sky, it had been quite a bit of time.

Patricia pushed away and looked around at the eerily silent house. "I should go get dinner together," she mumbled, letting herself slip into auto pilot; it was the only way she could function after the sudden shock.

She was simply unable to return Maggie's soft smile as the younger woman reached out to brush a strand of Patricia's hair out of her face and said, "Daddy had a sandwich. Beth grabbed an apple." Her eyes stung as Maggie tenderly cupped her cheek. "Can I make you something?"

The tears barely contained in Patricia's eyes spilled forth. "Oh, honey," Maggie sadly whispered, drawing the woman back into her embrace.

"What is the point of it?" Patricia sobbed. "Why are we all struggling to stay alive if there is nothing for us but to be eaten?"

And while Patricia didn't miss the tightening of the arms around her, she did miss the panic stricken look that suddenly crossed Maggie's face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a brief moment this chapter was titled "Dinner Time," following the pattern after the chapter titled "Take-Out." And like "Take-out" it had a double meaning... only it seemed heartless to name a chapter about a woman mourning her husband's death by walkers "Dinner Time." So I chose Shock instead. But I may go back and change it to "Dinner Time"... I'm not well known for being tactful.


	10. Hesitation

"Murph," Connor started, and paused. He searched for the words. He didn't know how to say what he was thinking.

Murphy threw his hands in the air and broodily sulked across the upper bedroom of the house they found for the night's accommodations. "I'd have done it if you asked." He stared out the window, avoiding Connor's eyes.

Connor leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. He cradled his face in his hands. He knew.

He knew him dragging his feet was driving Murphy nuts. They had been ambling around the Northern Plains of the US, dipping into Canada more than once. Winter was on its way, and moving south would negate his reasoning for coming north. Cold slowed these creatures down, kept the two of them safer.

And above and beyond all of that...

"What if they are gone? What if she's gone?" Connor couldn't think of a more tactful way to say it. What assurance would they have that Maggie was even still alive? Its an awful long run with no guarantee outcome.

"What fucking difference does it make?" Murphy spat back, stormed back over to where his brother sat. He pushed at Connor's shoulder, trying unsuccessfully to throw him off balance. "Does it make a bit of difference if we freeze our asses off up here and die of exposure or head back to the last sure thing we had?"

...

As he climbed into the passenger seat the next morning, Connor was still running his tongue over his teeth, making sure his brother hadn't worked them loose. He flipped down the vanity mirror as Murphy put the car into gear. Connor ran his finger over his black eye as his other half pointed the car southward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to marksmanfem for her hand holding, ass kicking, and editorial expertise who is always willing to give some advice/ let me vent/ send me a youtube video to inspire me. Thank you!


	11. Aware

He stood at the front of the RV and watched the group go about their daily lives. Or what had become their daily lives.

Rick trying to keep the group together, a cohesive group. Trying to not let the weight of the group press so tightly on him that he is going to fall apart if someone breathes too heavy on him.

Hershel trying to keep his family alive anyway possible. Trying to keep his own sanity intact despite the hardships he initiated on himself and his girls.

Shane slowly trying to rip everyone apart. Suspicious and judgemental of every move his best friend makes.

Lori trying like hell to save her marriage but carrying some heavy secrets. Heavy enough that they would tear Rick apart if he knew any of them.

Patricia trying to keep herself together as the matriarch of the Greene clan, despite her heavy losses. This family was all she had left.

Carol trying her best to make it seem as though everything is normal, even though she lost the last person on this planet that meant anything to her, leaving her nothing.

Jimmy feeling at a complete loss in his new world, one without his own family. A new world where he has little idea of his responsibility because he has no idea what's expected of him in this ever-changing group dynamic.

Carl trying to grow up faster than a 12 year old should. Learning about things no boy his age should ever need to know

Andrea fighting everyday to ensure her place in the group, showing she could do as much as anyone else. Projecting her own doubts and insecurities onto the others, sure they see her as weak and useless as she's afraid she is.

Beth searching for meaning in this post apocalyptic hell. Not sure what the point of anything is anymore.

T-Dog doing what he can to keep the group swimming smoothly. Doing tasks no one else wants to just to get them done.

Glenn trying his hardest to not moon over Maggie. Feeling the utter pointlessness of letting his heart get caught up with someone who was clearly intent on someone who was not coming back.

Maggie trying to hide the longing looks she sends in Daryl's direction when she thinks he isn't paying attention. She can't help the feelings his appearance stirs up in her heart but she's obviously trying.

Daryl trying to stay out of Maggie's unsettling gaze and keep to himself as much as possible. Even going so far as to move his camp away from the rest of them.

Dale saw it all, sensed every bit of it, wished there was an easier way for everyone in this new hell on earth. But he just couldn't seem to figure it out


	12. Empty

The haggard man gripped the front of Arnold's shirt tightly, the handgun waving dangerously close to his eyes. If he had done this before the dead started wandering the earth, Arnold mighta pissed himself. But the last few months- Christ it felt like years- had steeled his constitution enough to not be scared of the wild-eyed, dark-haired man threatening his life with what was more than likely an empty gun. Ammo was scarce anymore, even for the most hoardistic of gun enthusiasts.

"Christ, Murph," the lighter haired man cursed, putting his hand on the shoulder of the tense man who was currently in Arnold's face.

The snarl on Murphy's face deepened. "Lord's name, brother," he growled, his eyes never leaving the old man in his grip.

The hand jumped from the broad shoulder to grip across the slide of the gun, pushing it out of Arnold's face. "It sure as hell ain't his fault we haven't found gas in three days."

Arnold relaxed and stepped out of the loosened grip. His eyes switched from the gun to the haunted dark eyes in front of him.

"I can't give you any fuel," he began again, hoping this time this man would keep his temper in check. "But let me get you boys fed before you push on." He nodded towards the boarded up farm house up the driveway. "Next town," he gestured southeast with his chin, "is about 6 more miles. I can't say what you'll find 'sides the dead, but it's there."

The light haired man nodded his thanks. "We'd appreciate that. We have been on foot a few days and could use a good meal."

Arnold laughed lightly, turning towards the house. "Can't promise how good it'll be, but it'll fill your bellies."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to marksmanfem for helping me perfect these little drabbles! And for waving the pom-poms when i need it


	13. Guarded

She watched the younger woman as she carried the basket of eggs in the house from the coop. Andrea couldn't imagine being knocked up during all of this. She couldn't even fathom being pregnant at that age period. Maggie had her whole life in front of her and now she was gonna be saddled with some asshole's kid who wasn't even around to help her take care of it.

That would have driven Andrea to stay in the CDC during the explosion, even with Dale sitting there. She wouldn't want to go through that. God, what if something went wrong with the pregnancy and Maggie died? What would happen to the kid?

Andrea hoped like hell no one would look at her play nursemaid. She'd just barely gotten out of Queen Lori and Cinder-Carol's laundress business, and she was not about to go back into the throwback, 1950's World of Women's Work. She'd fought a hard battle to sit up here and protect the camp.

And damned if Andrea was going to let it go for anything.

She slouched back into the chair on top of the RV, squinting her eyes into the sun.


	14. Complications

_Yep, that went well._

That was all Connor could think of; a line from a TV show he had watched he didn't even know how long ago. Some crazy sci fi western show Fox had on for like two episodes before yankin. He had seen a few episodes in a bar somewhere when there was nothing else entertaining going on.

Connor hissed as the needle pierced his skin. "Quit yer whinin'," Murphy growled as he tugged the thread through his twin's side, stitching up a knife wound before it got infected.

"If ye stopped pointin' yer feckin gun at anythin' that feckin' moved," Connor hissed out between clenched teeth, before screwing his eyes shut against the pain. A couple of jackasses had tried to get the jump on the brothers as they looked for a place to bed down for the night. They were on foot, again. They had found some transportation out of that dinky town after Murphy had threatened the old man, however that truck didn't make but 70 miles down the road before it crapped out. So they hoofed it down the road, searching for someplace safe. Little did they know they had wandered into someone's "territory." And that someone didn't take kindly to new people who were not quick to make restitution for "trespassing."

"Hold ta feck still, Conn," Murphy said. "I  **will**  sit on ye n not tink twice."

Shoving his bloody hand up into his hair, Connor gripped tight, tucking his face into his bent elbow, trying to stay as still as possible. He let the anger burn through his system, anger at himself, anger at Murphy and anger at the fuckers who jumped them. The anger distracted from the pain some.

But not completely, he thought as he bit into his bottom lip drawing more blood.

They got away by the skin of their teeth, both of them hurt. Murphy had what looked like a broken nose, and Connor had stab wound to his ribs. He was lucky the fucker with the five inch blade had hit a rib instead of slipping between them. Otherwise, Murphy might have become an only child, something they were both aware of, but neither spoke about.


	15. Piss

He gripped the gun in his hand. His sweat slick palm itched and ached. Shane was unrelenting in his teaching. Drive and go. Push and do. No time to think. He insisted that he had to do this to teach them muscle memory so that when they were faced with the walkers they would know what to do.

Rather than piss themselves.

Loading a new clip and clearing the slide, Jimmy was certain he would piss himself if a walker ever come after him, no matter how much practice Shane pounded into him.

Out of the corner of his eye he looked at Beth and Maggie, both aptly learning how to shoot. Arms outstretched, hands wrapped around handles of their guns, he watched as they hit target after target. And he came up with a new plan.

If walkers came after him, he'd hide behind his girlfriend and her pregnant sister. And hope the walkers ate him before Hershel caught wind of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to marksmanfem for the awesome editing and hand holding for yet another chapter. If you like BDS and you have not read anything by her- for shame! You need to get your behind over to her stories now!
> 
> For those of you playing at home- I have one more Atlanta survivor chapter to go before the herd hits... only one more person who wont make it out of that bit of the show. After that all hell will break loose and chapters should come alot faster- have several of them already written!


	16. Fever

The wind howled through the trees, covering any chance of hearing the moans of approaching creatures. Although we have people watching the area of our small camp, the darker of the two men sat silently, straining against the gale outside, vigilant in his watch regardless of the impossibility of hearing anything. Next to him slept the one person in the world that could call up such loyalty from him, the only sure thing he had left on this earth to guard. 

One of our hunters, Hank, stumbled on the pair two days ago while out looking for provisions. Murphy, the dark haired one, was no worse for wear, all things considered. His brother though, Connor had a bad infection from a knife wound on his side. Our nurse Johnnie, who did a few tours of duty over in the hot sandy part of the world, had seen her fair share of infections, and knew he was gonna be fine so long as we were able to clean him up, and keep him hydrated during the worse of his fevers. 

Keeping him hydrated was the hardest part of the whole thing. 

The man was having dreams, nightmares. And he was a fighter, literally. Whatever was after him in his sleep was out to kill him and he was not going down without a fight. He took a swing at Johnnie, who I had seen take more than a few fists to the head the past few months, sending her sprawling to the floor. It took several of us plus Murphy to get him under control enough to get liquid down his throat during the worse of his fever. Even his brother talking in his ear did not calm Connor even a little. 

When the fever broke earlier today, I don't know who was more relieved; us or Murphy.


	17. Alpha

He smiled at Maggie who was sitting in the rocker on the front porch in the twilight of the day. He watched her watch him walk across the yard of the farm. Her eyes narrowed as his grin widened. 

Shane walked by her, and looked at where her hand landed on her belly. He was happy to see another woman pregnant with his baby. If he could get the rest of these whores to open their legs to him, and let him knock the lot of them up, he could sway the power to his favor. That’s how it worked in the animal kingdom. The male with the most power was the one who got to mate with all of the females in the group. 

Looking back over his shoulder, he surveyed the rest of his pack, his eyes falling on Carol and Beth sitting close together, the older woman showing her how to sew a button back on one of Daryl’s shirts. Shane wasn’t going to enjoy bedding Carol; who knew if the old hag could even have any more babies. Her cunt was probably filled with cobwebs and dust. 

But Beth.

Beth was going to be fun to fuck. Shane doubted she had much experience if any. It had been a while since he landed a virgin. Even if she wasn’t technically a virgin, he was certain he could show her things that Jimmy never even dreamed of. 

He glanced back at Maggie on the porch. He narrowed his eyes and realized he couldn't exactly remember sleeping with her. But clearly he had; that was evident by her swollen belly and her look of disdain that matched Lori’s.


	18. Advocate

His eyes stung with smoke. His skin burned with the heat from the fire. He could see her through the smoke and fire, but he couldn't get to her. She was too far away, too many bodies in his way. He called her name, and she didn’t, or couldn’t, hear him through the roar of the fire and the moans of the dead. He drew his guns and tried to fire at the mindless bodies around her. He couldn't pull the trigger. 

He looked at his brother who glances at him with wide helpless eyes. 

Panic running through his body, he woke with a start, gasping for breath, his lungs empty, his nose filled with the smell of phantom smoke. He wiped the sweat stinging his eyes.

“Murph,” he croaked, trying to wake his brother. Sitting up, Connor opened his eyes to find Murphy already sitting on the side of the bed, pulling a shirt on, reaching for his boots. 

“Pack yer shit,” was all Murphy said as he walked out of the room to grab his gear and throw it in the back of a vehicle, any vehicle, that will get them south, and fast.


	19. Humanity

She stared at Rick like he was utterly and unforgivable insane. This world had finally pushed him over the edge. She couldn't believe the words that he was saying; Shane was dead. Tears welled in her eyes, a burning in her throat as she grabbed Carl, yanking him to her.

Lori looked over toward Maggie and Beth huddled against thier dad. Herchel held his girls tight, his hand running over Beth's head. The girl looked so much younger with her hair askew and her face filthy with dirt and soot.

And Maggie.. Maggie looked scared. Terrified. She had an arm slung across her abdomen, across her child. She desperately looked from person to person, though what she was looking for Lori could only imagine. A glimmer of hope? A slice of sanity? A bit of humanity?

Lori wasn't sure if any of them had any of that left any more.


	20. Progress

"Missouri: t'show me state. Fuck's that s'posed t'mean, anyway?"

"Who t'feck cares. Murph, y'ain't gettin' out of de question dat easy. T'feck are we s'posed t'do once we get dere?"

"Was tinkin' we could just lay low dere for a while, ye know."

"I suppose so. But what if dey aren't all dat keen on us just popping back inta dere lives dere now?"

"Den we juss stop by. Check on'em and mosey on down da road a piece, so we can keep an eye on'em."

"'Den whut? Settle on our own wee bit of land, juss da two o us?"

"Feck ye."

"Maybe we can find a cute lil grey farmhouse, complete wit animals? Murph, ye 'n I, we left Ireland to get t'fuck away from farms, ye daft bastard."

"No, Conn, apparently we left Ireland to work in a feckin' meat packing plant. I don't tink we moved up very much at all, do ye?"

"And now we're dodgin' th'livin' dead, Murph. Yer point?"

"Ah, feck yer logic!"

"At least I'm bein' logical."

"Have ye taught about t'fact that dey might be happy t'see our faces?"

"Aye. Mine, maybe."

"Feck ye! Ye weren't ta one the farmer's daughter was playing doctor wit now, now were ye?"

"How ta feck would ye know whut I was doing after pretty, pretty princess snuck ye up t'her room after Daddy went t'bed?"

"Yer so full shit. If ye had bedded Maggie's little sister, I woulda heard about it a long time 'fer now."

"Ever tink maybe Daddy will be happy to see me cuz I was t'one who could keep it in me pants?"

"Pull t'feck over!"

"I taught we were in a wee bit o a hurry. Yer fair maiden was in danger n what not. Do we really have da time t'be pulling over fer me t'kick yer ass?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to markmanfem for giving me the idea for this chapter and then shaping it into what you see, including a few rewritten lines. Thank you darlin. It is greatly appreciated.
> 
> And I do believe I have a new favorite chapter.. this one.


	21. Leaving

Curiosity got the better of him. It couldn't be helped. Sometimes it just happened. 

"Who's gonna help you raise your baby?" Carl asked Maggie one morning over a cold breakfast. The woman was way bigger than his mom was, he knew she was going to have her baby before Lori had hers. 

She blinked up at him, seemingly stunned at his question. "Ya know since you don't have a husband," he offered. He noticed the heavy weighted silence that fell over the group, wondering what he had said wrong. 

"Maggie," his mom said softly as the girl's eyes filled with tears, two seconds before Maggie struggled to her feet and moved away from the group. 

Lori sighed heavily. "Carl," she said.

“What, Mom? She never talks about her husband.”

She shook her head. “She doesn’t have one, sweetheart.”

“Then how did she get pregnant?”

His mom suddenly looked sick and shifted in her spot beside him, picking at her breakfast. “It can happen.”

“But-”

“Carl,” his dad growled behind them as he came off watch. Lori shifted again, this time to disengage from the conversation. She did that a lot lately, since the farm got hit, since he and his dad killed Shane. 

Rick crouched down on the other side of Carl, and lowered his voice. “She had someone very special, but she lost him.”

“He dead?” Carl’s stomach plummeted. 

With a shrug, his dad rubbed his hand over his face. “He left,” he admitted. 

“Why would he leave someone like Maggie?” He felt his cheeks burn after he said it, realizing he suddenly let his dad in on a little secret of his own. 

Rick allowed a small smile. “I don’t know, son. He musta had a good reason.”

“What would make you leave Mom?”

“Not much,” Rick admitted.


	22. Grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FEELS!!!

He hadn't wanted to split up but Murphy had insisted it would save them time, help them figure out what happened faster. It was hard to determine from the mass of bodies littered on the ground how long ago the farm had been hit.

With a gun drawn, he walked among the dead bodies, most very dead, his eyes searching for more recently dead, trying to get a time frame. He was really hoping to avoid the sight of a dark haired beauty who had been ripped into bite size pieces.

Connor was the one who found her, and she was gruesome to look at. It was the shining gold of her hair that stood out to him in the field of greys, blacks, and browns. He extended a foot to push the bodies off of Patricia and paused, mid air rethinking his action. She had been someone's wife, and deserved more than his foot in her face.

His stomach rolled and boiled as he tried to extract the woman who made the best biscuits he had ever had from the mass of tangled bodies. Connor had handled more than a few dead bodies in his life. But none that had been ravaged as much.

"Hey," he said softly, as he came around Murphy's bulk, his hand on his brother's shoulder.

Murph didn't even acknowledge his presence. His tear stained eyes were focused on the stones and crosses in front of him. Five unmarked graves sat under the trees.

Connor's heart lept into his throat, and he felt nauseous again, though for a different reason than when he dealt with Patricia's body. Five people died since they left here. He was certain there were no graves here before. They had ventured by this spot, more than once to get to the back fields to repair Hershel's fences.

Five. That could be everyone who was here, who had shared their days and meals with the brothers. The Greene family plus Otis and Patricia made five. But he just found Patricia over in front of the house, by the trashed camp. So that didn't make any sense.

There was some wreckage in the front yard that looked like it might've been a camp. From the state of things, it seemed like it might have even been there for a while. Did Hershel take in strays? Were they local families? Or wayward folks looking for a place to stay?

Connor turned from the graves, and the still smoking remnants of the barn. The number of tents lead him to believe that maybe a dozen to two dozen people had lived there. And the RV that sat smoldering and blackened by the barn, that certainly was not the Greene's.

Maybe some of the graves were for campers. Maybe all of them. If it had been Maggie, Beth, Otis or Hershel, Connor was sure there would be more marking them than just wooden crosses and stones.

Outside of digging the graves up, they were not going to find out who was in them. And Connor knew, as well as he knew that the sun would come up tomorrow, that Maggie was not one of the folks laid to rest here. He just had to prove it to his brother, somehow.


	23. Complacent

Shelter. 

That was what they need to find and fast. Hershel had let him know they were getting close to go time for Maggie’s baby. They were so ill prepared for that now. They had left everything back at the farm. Now they had nothing, and no way to get supplies without gas. The only vehicle with gas was Daryl’s bike. Rick was not about to send Dixon and a very pregnant Maggie off with only his best wishes. The two were ill at ease with one another as it was, and he still didn't have a good idea why that was the case. Neither of them seemed to want to talk about it at all. 

If only Rick had thought about keeping a vehicle packed with basic necessities and baby needs. They had gotten too relaxed, too comfortable at the farm. It was his fault, he blamed himself. He should have been on top of it. He blamed himself for all of the people they lost, and was very relieved they had not lost any more.

He stood from his spot by the fire and wandered over to where he had last seen Daryl disappear on watch. “‘ts me,” he whispered, knowing Dixon would be able to hear him no matter how far out he wandered. 

 

It wasn't but a few minutes before Daryl emerged from the shadows. ""'Sup,  
boss?"

"We need-"

Daryl just nodded once. "Got a idea. Let me have... Shit. Who can I take wit me?"

Rick ran his hand over his face. Dixon was right. Every single one of their group was needed here, including Daryl. The Greenes were not going to leave Maggie's side for long. Glenn and T- dog were their only others to take watch. Rick needed Carol close by in case Maggie went into labor. And Lori was too pregnant to go out on a run with Daryl. 

"Carl," Rick said with a nod. 

Daryl looked surprised. Not in the kid's ability. Outside of the kid being a sticky fingered thief, Daryl had no problem with Carl. He has proved himself already, and could be trusted to do what Daryl said when he was told to do it. 

No, it was Rick's willingness to let the kid out of his and Lori's sight for a sizable amount of time. Daryl did not envy the potential fight Rick would have with his wife over this decision, but he would be hopefully long gone before that fight started. 

"Well alright."


	24. Chapter 24

Two men continued to shovel, sweating in the late summer heat under the setting sun. Beside them lay the body of a friend, briefly known but greatly appreciated. Despite their short acquaintance, the brothers toiled to give her the burial she deserved, at least what remained of her after her brutal and undeserved death.

They had spent the better part of the day combing through the decomposing bodies that littered the grounds of the farm, even going so far as to shuffle through the pile of burned body parts and ashes scattered around the barn and an old RV. They found no other recently dead except the blonde tucked under a sheet they had procured from the house. 

Collectively they were both relieved and filled with dread. They were left with more questions than answers by the time they had finished. Where was the Greene family? And Otis? How could his wife have fallen under his watchful eyes? As little as they knew the man, they were certain Otis would not have left his wife behind, no matter what happened to her. 

The brothers had only taken a cursory inspection of the house, noting very little had changed since they were there over eight months ago. It seemed like years since they had been guests here. 

The sun was all but gone by the time they finished laying the woman to rest. One man gathered the shovels, leaning them against a tree before tossing a shirt at the dark haired man. 

The two took a moment to collect themselves, each taking long draws out of a bucket of well water, slaking their powerful thirsts. They tugged shirts over their heads before reaching for the rosaries that hung carefully from tree branches. 

With practiced ease, the men joined in a solemn prayer over the grave, sending the woman's spirit into God's hands. By the time they had finished, the dark haired man was in tears, drawing wetness to his brother's lashes as well. He paused, hand covering his face for a moment as the two stared blankly down at the grave. "I can't...we have to...she can't be..."

The lighter haired man put his hand on the other's shoulder. "We'll find 'er. That's all dere is to it."


	25. Prepare

She shook the old blanket outside the backdoor, dust flying in the air. Whatever detritus she was able to shake from the linens would leave less mess in the wash water. 

She left the blanket over the railing on the porch for Beth to collect and launder. Carol stepped back into the dilapidated farm house in search of more sheets. Daryl and Carl had come back to this house yesterday, the place where Sophia found shelter a few months back. They found that the herd had missed it, or at least left it standing, so Daryl and the younger Grimes led the group back to here for the time being. 

It wasn't far from anyone’s thoughts how close they were to the Greene farm but none of the group had the stomach to go back. Yet. There was talk of going back to bury their dead, but no one was leading that march back down the road. 

Here they were out of the weather and would hold up until they got their bearings. Rick had confided in her that they would try to stick here until both Maggie and Lori gave birth. During that time, they would reaccumulate supplies, vehicles, and their wits. No one was unscathed any more, none of them. They all needed time to take a breather, recoup, and move on. 

Carol tried not to think of her little girl, and was actually thankful to see the Cherokee roses were done blooming. It wasn't that she didn't miss her Sophia, the ache was still there. Carol just had other things to focus on, things she needed to do to take care of the rest of her cobbled-together family.

She glanced up at the soft footsteps entering the room. Maggie leaned against the door frame, looking pale and drawn. “Sit down, honey,” Carol insisted, grabbing a kitchen chair and spinning it to face the girl. 

It was then that the older woman fully took in the girl: her sweat pants drenched, her face pinched. “Oh,” was all she could think of saying, before grabbing Maggie’s arm, and tugging her into the chair. “Let me go get your sister and Rick.”

“And Daddy,” Maggie muttered, her eyes filling with tears. 

Carol squeezed her hand with a smile. “And your dad,” she promised.


	26. Tracks

Connor cursed himself; He was shit at this, and he knew it.  How exactly did someone track a wayward family running from the undead?  It wasn’t like they left a bread crumb trail or a forwarding address.  The last fresh sets of tire treads were at the end of the Greenes’ driveway.  Once those vehicles hit the blacktop though, they were gone.  Whoever fled the farm had  turned both left and right, and Connor had no way of knowing which tracks lead to the family they were looking for.  

 

Murphy’s constant  agitated tone and mannerisms were not helping at all.  If anything it was killing whatever concentration that Connor had.  Clint Eastwood made tracking look damn easy in _The Outlaw Josie Wales_.  But he had horses to follow across muddy terrain and tracking experience.  All Connor had was a brother who wouldn’t stop bitching.

 

 _Fuck_.

 

He pulled open the passenger side door on the car and hopped in.  “Lets go back t’da highway ‘n see if we can see what we can see.”

 

“Dat all ye got?” Murphy growled.

 

“Ye got anyting better?  Cuz really, Murph, I’m out o’ideas,” Connor lashed out before he could stop himself.  Gritting his teeth, he turned towards the window as a sullenly silent Murphy pointed the car back towards the interstate they came in on yesterday.  

 

 


	27. Protection

There was nothing he could do for her. It was all out of his hands, as it had been since the day she told him she was pregnant. 

Hershel squeezed his eldest daughter’s hand and walked out of the bedroom under the pretense of seeing a man about a horse. Truth be told, he needed to get out of the room and clear his head for a bit. 

As he walked into the kitchen, he sat in a chair in the far corner and laid his folded hands on the table top, bowing his head. He began talking to someone whom he had been neglecting of late, and now he feared that his transgressions would be held against his daughter. 

Hershel hoped the Lord was listening and could find it in His to comfort his daughter, to help her safely through the birth. He knew he was unworthy of the Lord’s love, but like Simon Peter he was humbled and human and asked for forgiveness, again. 

The older man also pondered how much he had lost in the past few months and how much he still stood to lose. He was already foundering without Annette, and if he lost his girls...especially his Maggie...

Herschel wasn't sure how he would go on. He would, of course, for his Bethie,but it would be eternally more difficult without his eldest at his side.


	28. Cigar

He hadn’t meant to still be at the farm this late. He was supposed to get in and get out with the supplies they needed for Maggie. It had taken him longer than he intended to find all the shit on Carol’s list. 

Not for the first time in the last hour, Daryl wished Beth had agreed to come with him. He had only been in their house a handful of times and sure as hell had never ventured upstairs where the bedrooms and bathrooms where. While he wasn’t a stupid man, some of the shit was not where a very frazzled Beth said it should be. He didn't think her memory was faulty, just someone probably moved some of this shit around, and she didn't know where it wound up. 

After checking the list one more time, Daryl zipped the duffle and his backpack. Slinging on the pack and shouldering the bag, he made for the stairs, anxious to get the stuff back to Carol before she was in need of it. 

The sound of his heavy booted feet on the hardwood floor drowned just about everything else in his ears. And it was almost too late before he realized that someone else was in the house. By the time Daryl sensed it, he was four stairs from the ground floor and hit a step that announced his presence. 

Fuck. 

He was never this careless. His crossbow sat hard against his shoulder blade under the weight of the backpack. There was no way to extract it without throwing off the pack. He drew his knife, yanking it from its sheath to sit comfortably in his palm. 

"Can I help ya'll with something?" Daryl called, the words friendly and helpful but the tone was threatening and harsh. He wanted to let them know he knew they were there, that they did not have the element of surprise. 

Two men appeared at the base of the stairs, looking at Daryl with unwavering stares, guns in their hands. "Could ask ye t'same," the fair haired man growled as the dark haired man threatened to disembowel Daryl with just his piercing blue eyes. 

"Awful quick to pick the bones of the farm, ain't ya boys? We only just got hit four days ago," Daryl growled from his perch on the stair. 

The dark haired man stepped forward, his foot resting on the bottom step. "'We?' What've ye done wit t'Greenes?" His tone was threatening and unwavering.

Dixon gave him a dismissive look before walking down the final four steps, standing nose to nose with the younger man. "I ain't done nothin' wit'em. The lot of'em were fine before I left, well as fine as can be. If ya can get ta fuck out of ta way so I can take this," he hefted the bag on his shoulder to illustrate his point, "to 'em, they'd be better."

The man in front of him was frosty, downright hostile in his glare, but he didn't scare Daryl even a little. He'd seen men like that before. And Daryl knew he held all the cards. He had the Greene family, they wanted the Greene family: they weren't going to hurt him at all. 

"Look, son," Daryl started. "I ain't got time fee ya and your shit. I do have to get this back to’em."

The other broke the staring contest between the two dark haired men. "We’re friends o theirs," he tried reasoning with Daryl. "’M Connor, dis is me brudder Murphy. Can ye take us t'dem?" 

"Yeah," Daryl responded, his eyes never leaving the icy gaze. "I can take ya to'em."

"Murph," Connor uttered, making the younger man take a reluctant step back.

Daryl shouldered past him, making for the door quick as his legs would carry him. He headed for the bike while the other men headed for their car. "We'll juss follow ye," Murph said as he slipped into the passenger seat. 

Daryl just nodded. After he fastened the bag to his bike, he kicked his leg over the seat of the bike. And with practiced ease, he unslung the crossbow and had it pointed at Connor standing inside the driver's door. "Keys!" Dixon barked. 

"Whut?" the other man asked disbelieving. 

Murphy made to open the door, and Daryl caught his eye, shaking his head and readjusting his aim on the other man.. He would have an arrow in Connor before his brother could get the door open, and they all knew it. 

"Keys," Daryl growled again. He wasn't taking them anywhere near the house. Especially not when the group already sitting with their pants down. "Look, I ain't got time for this," he tried one last time before he turned his cross bow and sunk a bolt into the front tire. 

"What tha fuck!" Connor cursed. 

"I'll be back," Daryl promised as he started the bike up. “Stay. Good boys."


	29. Sentry

He crouched, hidden in the undergrowth that lined the driveway to the old farm. Everyone who was not actively helping with Maggie's birth had been dispersed through the surrounding grounds to keep an eye out for any walkers that were going to be alerted to their presence once the screaming started. 

T-dog had no desire to be a part of the horror show that was going to go on in that upstairs bedroom. He took the shot gun and headed down the driveway toward the road, keeping his eyes pealed. 

A familiar rumble alerted him to Daryl's arrival. He checked the safety on his gun and ensured it was properly loaded. That bike could always alert walkers. T-dog got the sentimental attachment the other man had for the damn bike but why'd he have to ride it everywhere?

Dixon just nodded at him as he rolled by. He pulled the bike up to the front door of the house and quickly unloaded an overstuffed duffle. Taking the stairs two at a time, Daryl strode into the house. 

A shuffle of something in the trees turned T-Dog's attention away from the house. Pulling the gun tight to his shoulder, his eyes searched for the disturbance, waiting for it to sound again. 

By the time he positively identified it was a pair of squirrels playing in the dead leaves, he heard Daryl's bike start back up. T walked to the edge of the woods to see Hershel and Rick walking back into the house as Daryl tore back up the driveway at breakneck speed. 

T couldn't imagine what would be so damn important that he would be rushing back to the farm this close to dusk.


	30. Truth

The headlights of Hershel's Suburban cut through the darkness, illuminating a shambling, old house. There was a faint light in one of the upstairs windows. I stopped behind Daryl's bike, and my brother was out of car before I even had it in park. 

"Murph!" I called as the door slammed. As I shut down the engine and the headlights cut out, I caught a glimpse of a dark haired bearded man stepping out onto the porch to meet Murphy. 

I shoved my shoulder against the door and leapt to the ground. I heard Murphy and the man talking softly as our tour guide Daryl faded into the shadows of the woods. There was something about the man that was downright unsettling. Possibly it was because he reminded me of someone but I couldn't put my finger on who. 

A woman's sudden scream echoed out of the house's open windows and doors, and my stomach plummeted to my toes. That had to be Maggie or Beth, and she didn't sound like she was having a good time. Murphy and I reached for our guns, though our host stayed completely relaxed as if hearing women screaming was normal for him. 

"Whut-"

The other man shook his head, then gestures towards our guns. "Don't need them." His eyes shifted from Murphy to me as I strode up behind my brother. 

"But-"

"Nothing. She-" He was cut off but a long drawn out scream filled with agony from upstairs. Murphy's eyes shifted from the house to me, looking like he was going to be sick. 

The bearded man moved out of the doorway and put his hand on my brother's arm. He nodded for us to enter the house. It was mostly dark, but a faint light coming from upstairs gave us just enough light to find the stairs. 

A small cheer from upstairs sent us scurrying for the steps. Murphy took them two at a time and almost plowed into Beth as she stepped out of bedroom, tears and a smile on her face. In the dark hallway, it took her a second to realize who was standing before her. 

"Oh my God, guys! Where did you come from?" The shy little girl who hardly said a word to either of us in the two days we were on the farm was gone. In her stead was this stunning young woman, who had apparently learned how to speak and certainly wasn't afraid of us anymore. 

"Long story, lass," I assured her. "Where's yer sister?"

"She alright?" Murphy begged, his voice panicked and pleading. 

Wiping at her face, Beth smiled at him, grabbing his hand and pulling towards the room she’d just left. The soft voices that could be heard from the room silenced as they stepped inside.

I couldn't see anything past Murphy's shoulders, but I could hear a choked sob. It took me til Murphy fell to his knees beside the bed holding Maggie for me to realize that my brother was crying.


	31. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: You all need to heartily thank boondoctorwho for this chapter. Originally this tale was supposed to end with Murphy hitting his knees at the end of the last chapter. finite. But she informed me "no." So here is the ending... grab your tissues. Murphy's a bastard and will draw a tear or two out of the most heartless of you out there.

Blinking back the tears that filled her eyes, Maggie was completely breathless; all need for oxygen ceased once she had the two in the room at the same time. She wanted to put her hands and lips on their faces, completely unsure who to touch first. Her heart ached, her throat burned. She had waited so long for them both to get here.

A full head of dark hair and sage green eyes stared up from the bundle in Maggie's arms. Murphy forced himself to look up at the pale green ones that haunted his dreams for the past few months. The adrenaline that had pumped into his system when Murphy thought Maggie was in trouble now didn't know what to do with itself. It swirled, clogged his brain, sent his heart up his throat, made his lungs work harder. But Maggie wasn't in trouble, she was... a momma.

Murphy was here. He was actually here. For a brief second when he walked through the door with Beth, Maggie thought he was Daryl, and she couldn't figure out why the other man would come to see her so soon after she gave birth.

Murphy was perched in a chair Hershel had brought him. The older man had left it at the bedside with a grim smile that told the younger man there would be a bit of a fatherly chat coming his way, but he was glad to see Murphy.

After the initial shock of seeing him again wore off, Maggie suddenly realized they were alone. Carol, her dad, and Beth had all left them. She vaguely remembered catching a glance of Connor.

"Lass," Murphy's voice faltered. He had so much he wanted to say to her. The thoughts were log jamming in his head, keeping anything coherent or meaningful from flowing between his lips.

Maggie smiled at him. "Help me sit up," she whispered. He rose to his feet, wide-eyed and unsure of how to proceed. Maggie took pity on him and offered a hint. "Take her," she smiled.

His wide eyes got impossibly bigger as he looked down at the tiny mewling blanket in Maggie's arms. "I -" He had never, ever, in his 37 years held a baby. He didn't have a clue what the fuck what he was doing.

"Support her bottom and her head," Maggie offered, encouraging him to pick up his daughter.

With minimal amount of fumbling, Murphy managed to get the girl safely into his own arms. He cradled her to his chest with one arm before reaching to help Maggie sit up. She shook her head and adjusted the pillows behind her.

Settling back against the wall, she watched Murphy take in their little girl, his face full of wonder, heartache, and so, so many other emotions Maggie couldn't even begin to label. She watched the tears on his lashes splash across his cheek as he reached out one finger, one dirty, rough digit to stroke down her pink, soft cheek.

"Yer so tiny, babe," he whispered to the child, amazement coloring his words, bringing tears to Maggie's eyes. But Murphy was too focused on the little girl to see. He marveled at her, all of her, every last bit of her. Her rich chocolate hair, her almond shaped eyes, her adorable nose that clearly was Connor's, though Murphy would never admit it to him. She had Aunt Beth's ears and her momma's mouth.

When he looked up at Maggie, she smiled and patted the bed next to her. Murphy leaned down, and gently kissed the young woman, his lips barely touching hers. He still had so much he wanted to say to her, and it was now compounded by the gurgling child in his arms. His child. He had never even thought of himself as a dad, and here he was suddenly faced with it.

Before Murphy could pull away, Maggie grabbed his face, and pulled him in for a heart melting kiss that made his toes curl. She felt his hand sneak behind her head, lacing through her messy locks. She had longed for that kiss, that touch. Maggie had dreamt of it many nights since he left her. There was a loud squall between them, and they pulled back enough to look down at their baby. Murphy pressed his forehead to Maggie's as he passed his girl to her momma.

His family.

Family Murphy could do, even if fatherhood seemed like such a foreign concept to him. He had been doing family since the day he and Connor were born. His ma made sure they were versed in it. And his girls already had homes in his heart.

"Mo theaghlach," Murphy said softly, pushing the edge of the blanket back from his daughter's face where she rooted at Maggie's breast. "Mo cailíní."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Mo theaghlach- my family
> 
> Mo cailín- my girls
> 
> AN: I do not even know how to begin thanking boondoctorwho for her help in this series. First off it would have never happened if she had not reviewed the very first chapter with "! This! OMG! I am the thing that is full of questions! AND IT'S A ONE-SHOT! GAH! ... and if you ever feel like following it up with something, count me on board." So I took her up on her offer and this has been the result.
> 
> Thank you, darlin for your brainstorming, chapter titling, hand holding, sweet talking, Irish making, and editing skills!


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